Tag Archives: excerpt

Jake and Andrea met once. When Andrea was in college, Jake came with her brother Ben who was visiting on leave from a deployment in Afghanistan. Now, years later, Jake gets a job in Ben’s home town to be close to his best friend. He hadn’t counted on Andrea. The attraction he’d felt then was still there. And this time he wasn’t headed back to a war zone where he could very well be killed.

Andrea is drawn to the man who calls Ben brother. Something about him speaks to her, but she’s not sure what. She falls into things head first, but when something makes her question how fast things are going she slams on the breaks. Can the two of them figure out what’s going on with them before it’s too late?

He quickly fixed two cups of hot cocoa, but before serving he ducked around the corner. She was sitting on the couch with the blanket pulled over her lap. “Have you ever tried Bailey’s in your cocoa?”

“No. Is it good?”

“I like it, want me to bring you mine and let you try it before you decide?”

“If you don’t mind, please?”

“If I minded I wouldn’t have offered.” He carried his cup of cocoa to the sofa and let her take a sip.

“Oooh, that’s good.”

“Want me to add some to yours, too?”

“Please, that would be great.” She kept his warm cup cradled in her hands, her shivering had stopped.

Jake quickly doctored the second cup of cocoa and returned, sitting down on the sofa near Andrea. He was careful not to jar her enough to spill the cocoa. “Do you want to trade? Or do you want to keep that one?”

“I already have this one and it’s almost half gone so I might as well keep it.”

Jake held his arm out. “Do you want to come over here and let me help warm you up?”

She scooted over and slid under his arm, lifting the blanket to cover his lap too, so he could help the heat build underneath. He pulled her close against his side and curled his arm around her. They sat quietly, drinking their cocoa for a few minutes, until Andrea started laughing.

“What?” Jake frowned down at her, confused.

“We’ve got to be crazy. Sitting here, still dressed for the wedding, sipping cocoa at nearly three am.”

“Well, I considered getting you out of the dress, but thought I’d be a gentleman and let it warm up in here first,” Jake quipped, causing Andrea to laugh harder. “I love your laugh,” Jake squeezed her against him in a quick, one-armed hug. “It makes me feel good.”

“What a sweet thing to say.” She stretched up to kiss him on the cheek. Draining the last of her cocoa, she set the empty cup on the coffee table in front of them. Pulling the blanket up to her shoulders, she curled into him, resting her head against his chest. “You smell nice.” She wiggled a little, trying to get comfortable.

“Make yourself comfortable.” He looked down at her, amused.

“I’m working on it. You’re warm, like Ben.”

“You do this to Ben?”

“Not anymore, but I did when I was younger. I was always cold and he was always so warm. I would curl up against him and steal some warmth. He never really knew what to make of it.” She admitted reflectively.

“I imagine not.” He wasn’t sure what to make of it himself. Not knowing what else to do, he slipped the arm that had been around her under the blanket and started rubbing up and down her side. He didn’t know why he did it, just that it seemed right. After a couple minutes she kicked off her shoes and pulled her legs up and curled them beside her. Jake started rubbing his hand up and down her leg. “Hmm… No hose.”

“No, I hate those things.”

“Probably would have been at least a little warmer in them though.”

“True. I wasn’t planning on staying out quite so late or in the cold as long when I got dressed though.”

“So you froze.” He ran his fingers along her thigh, back and forth against the hem of her dress, sending another shiver though her body. “You still cold?”

“No, not anymore.” She moved against him, as if silently asking for more.

Jake continued to play his fingers lightly over her skin, teasing her with his touch until he had finished his cocoa. He carefully slipped out from under the blanket, tucking it around her, and stood. Picking up hers, he took both mugs into the kitchen and set them in the sink. On the way back, he took off his suit jacket and hung it and his tie over the back of a dining chair.

Unfastening his collar, Jake returned to the couch. Sitting beside her, this time he kicked his own shoes off and sat sideways, one leg bent in the seat as he leaned against the arm. He invited her to curl up against him. “Come here.”

She crawled closer, dragging the blanket with her, and laid against his chest. He pulled the blanket around her, tucking it around her feet and put his arms underneath to wrap them around her.

“How’s that? Warm enough?” He liked that she trusted him enough to put herself in his arms.

“It’s nice, but not at all what I thought you meant when you said you wanted to take me home.” She looked up at him with half lidded eyes.

“It’s not, but it’s still a little cool in here, besides I’m enjoying this too.”

Andrea got a mischievous glint in her eyes as she started to wiggle, moving her arms around his sides.

“What are you up to?”

“Nothing much.” She struggled a moment, pulling the ends of his dress shirt and the t-shirt underneath free from his slacks. When she managed to untuck them all the way around she slid her hands underneath, against his skin. “Mmmm, much better.” She played her fingers back and forth over his skin. Pushing herself onto her knees, she stretched until her lips met his. She kissed him eagerly, using her mouth to let him know she was ready to move faster.

Jake ran his hands along the hem of her dress, caressing the bare skin as he slowly inched the fabric up her legs.

Engrossed in the deep kiss, Andrea let her fingers curl. They dug into his skin as she pulled herself against him. She squirmed, moving into his hands as he touched her and pulling herself back into him again, as though she couldn’t decide which touch she wanted more.

Jake continued to slowly slide her dress up, running his fingers lightly over her soft skin on either side of her body as he went. It wasn’t until she arched her back, leaning into him that he realized he’d reached her waist. He broke the kiss and looked at Andrea, confused.

She smiled mischievously again, amused by his confusion.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been naked under that dress all night long?”

“Would you like it if I were?”

“Girl, I’ve wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you, before I knew who you were. It drives me crazy thinking of you with no panties on under that little dress all day. On the side of the highway, changing that tire.” He felt himself growing hard at the thought. “In the church while Ben said ‘I do’. All that time at the reception hall, and sitting next to me at the diner.”

Andrea laughed at how his voice deepened with desire as he spoke and the hard feel of him pressing against her. “It’s a good thing I was wearing some then, wasn’t it?”

I’m often asked if I base my characters on people I know. No. Each character’s personality is different. I do sometimes steal mannerisms, haircuts, personal preferences, but more often than not it’s what the character has told me about themselves and yes, they actually speak to me.

Sometimes I’ll be sitting in a restaurant with my family and over hear something at the next table that makes my mind spin. It may give me an idea or it may just sound so much like one of the people living in my head that they end up saying something similar in the future.

I may see someone somewhere who inspires my physically, and actually for Jade’s Peace, Steve was inspired by my mental image of what Model Jeremy Aaron’s personality might be like. I kept a picture of him on my desktop and when I had doubts about how Steve might behave, how he would react to something I could look at the pic and I just knew. Often, though I don’t need a visual aid. With Jade, she spoke to me, and told me things I didn’t have planned at all. She started out as an only child. And I was writing along and she says to me, “Watch out, my brother will be here tomorrow.” My immediate thought was, “You don’t have a brother.” She was adamant though and replied, “Yes I do and he’ll be here tomorrow.” Sure enough, he showed up, and I had to go back and fix a few things but I’ll admit, he made the story better.

I find that my best stories, at least to me, at the ones where I start out with a vague idea of the story, I have two characters and a rough ending, (Hey, this is romance, they always end up together, right?) and let the characters tell me their story as I go along. The characters always seem more alive when they lead their own stories.

Melissa was born and raised in Arizona, she’s spent her entire life living across the southern half of the state. She’s found that, along with her husband and three children, she prefers the small towns and rural life to feeling packed into a city.

She started reading at a very young age, and her love for series started early, as the first real books she remembers reading is the Boxcar Children series by Gertrude Chandler Warner. Through the years she’s found that there’s little she won’t read, and her tastes vary from westerns, to romance, to sci-fi / fantasy and Horror.

Rebounding is a FULL-LENGTH novel.CONTEMPORARY ADULT ROMANCERecommended for 17+ due to mature language and adult situations.

Charlotte Hart used to have the perfect life.

Or…what she thought was perfect.

President of her sorority. Legions of friends. A promising career in journalism. It’s exactly what she wanted, exactly what she’d always planned. But after her slimy bastard of a boyfriend cheats on her with her archenemy, everything she built comes crumbling down.

She needs out. Now.

But leaving everything behind means she has to live with Max, a mysterious guy from the past. Living with him isn’t the wisest decision she’s ever made—Max isn’t friendly, he keeps a lot of secrets, and sneaks out in the middle of the night. There’s definitely something shady about him, but at least he seems to understand what she needs. In fact, he seems to know it better than she does.

When Charlotte shows up on Max Archer’s doorstep, he knows he can’t turn her away. He wishes he could—she’s broken, lost, comes with too much baggage, but he owes her his life. Whatever she wants, he’ll find a way to make it happen. Problem is, Max doesn’t count on Charlotte wanting more than he’s willing to give.

He doesn’t count on her wanting his heart.

REBOUNDING follows characters that were introduced in the novel PRETENDING, but you do not need to read PRETENDING beforehand as REBOUNDING is its own story and is a standalone novel.

The way he’s carrying me makes it hard to look at him or speak to him. However, I can feel him. Even in my state, it’s hard not to notice the rippling muscles pressed against my back. He’s shirtless, and the warmth of his bare skin against mine isn’t all that unpleasant. Now that I’m aware of it, I can’t focus on anything else.

We finally reach the shore and Max sets me down on the sand. Drops me, more accurately. I rub my hips and butt, grateful to know it probably hurt less than it would if I were sober.

Saltwater stings my eyes, or else I would roll them. “Oh, please. I’m just trying to have fun.”

“It’s storming, kid, or are you really that oblivious?”

I wipe my eyes and stand up, sucking in a small breath as I do. Even my ex, who trained rigorously almost everyday, didn’t have a body as toned and built as Max’s. I shouldn’t stare, but I can’t help it.

He points toward the sky like he’s speaking to a toddler. “Does it look like swimming weather to you?”

“I don’t feel any rain,” I argue back.

As if on cue, a deafening crack of thunder booms all around us, lightning splitting the dark sky. Rain mists over the beach, millions of tiny raindrops hitting the surface of the ocean all at once.

Max and I look at each other, almost daring the other one to speak. The whole thing was too perfectly timed.

I’m not sure if my mother predestined me to become a romance author when she named me after her favorite Kathleen Woodiwiss book, but that’s what happened. Now I live and breathe all things books. When I’m not glued to my desk writing, I can be found eating too much chocolate, obsessing over Game of Thrones, and cyber stalking my favorite authors. Keep up with me on Facebook and Instagram. I love hearing from readers!

The Song of David by Amy Harmon.
Genres: New Adult, Paranormal, Romance.
Release Date: 15th June 2015

Meet Millie and David (Tag) in the newest stand alone by Amy Harmon

“She said I was like a song. Her favorite song.”

SYNOPSIS

This is David ‘Tag’ Taggert’s book, a supporting character introduced in The Law of Moses. This is a stand-alone story, but it is highly recommended that The Law of Moses be read first to avoid spoilers.

She said I was like a song. Her favorite song. A song isn’t something you can see. It’s something you feel, something you move to, something that disappears after the last note is played.

I won my first fight when I was eleven years old, and I’ve been throwing punches ever since. Fighting is the purest, truest, most elemental thing there is. Some people describe heaven as a sea of unending white. Where choirs sing and loved ones await. But for me, heaven was something else. It sounded like the bell at the beginning of a round, it tasted like adrenaline, it burned like sweat in my eyes and fire in my belly. It looked like the blur of screaming crowds and an opponent who wanted my blood.

For me, heaven was the octagon.

Until I met Millie, and heaven became something different. I became something different. I knew I loved her when I watched her stand perfectly still in the middle of a crowded room, people swarming, buzzing, slipping around her, her straight dancer’s posture unyielding, her chin high, her hands loose at her sides. No one seemed to see her at all, except for the few who squeezed past her, tossing exasperated looks at her unsmiling face. When they realized she wasn’t normal, they hurried away. Why was it that no one saw her, yet she was the first thing I saw?

If heaven was the octagon, then she was my angel at the center of it all, the girl with the power to take me down and lift me up again. The girl I wanted to fight for, the girl I wanted to claim. The girl who taught me that sometimes the biggest heroes go unsung and the most important battles are the ones we don’t think we can win.

**This is David ‘Tag’ Taggert’s book, a supporting character introduced in The Law of Moses. This is a stand-alone story.

Amelie and Henry didn’t come by the gym the next day. On Saturday, I thought I saw them once, beyond the wall of windows along the front of the gym, but when I looked again they were gone. I shrugged, deciding Henry must not have been as excited by the idea as Amelie thought he would be. A few minutes later I looked up to see them hovering near the speed bags, Amelie holding firmly to Henry’s arm, Henry looking as if he was about to bolt and drag his poor sister with him. They were garnering some strange looks—Henry with his crazy bedhead, his darting glances, and jittery hands and Amelie because she stood so still and looked so out of place in a gym filled with muscles and men.

I called a quick halt to my bout, escaping Axel, who was trying to pummel me into next week, and slid between the ropes that cordoned off one of the octagons.

“Amelie! Henry!” I called, noting how Amelie’s face was immediately wreathed in a relieved smile, a smile so wide it spread to her eyes, giving the illusion of sparkle and life. But Henry started backing up, pulling his sister with him.

“Yo, Henry. Hold up, man.” I stopped several feet from them and lowered my voice. “Did you know that Jack Dempsey versus Jess Willard was the very first fight to be broadcast over the radio?”

Henry stopped moving and his hands stilled.

“Do you know what year that was, Henry?”

“1919,” Henry said in a whisper. “The first televised fight was in 1931. Benny Leonard vs. Mickey Walker.”

“I didn’t know that.” Actually, I had only known about the Dempsey, Willard fight because I’d seen a biography on Dempsey on Netflix the night before. God bless Netflix. The mention of the radio had made me think of Henry and the sportscast blaring from his bedroom. “You wanna tell me more?”

“David ‘Tag’ Taggert, light heavyweight contender with a professional record of eighteen wins, two losses, ten knock outs.”

“You checked up on me, huh?”

Henry’s mouth twitched, and he looked away shyly.

“You did! What else did you find out? That all the ladies love me, that I’m the best looking fighter, pound for pound, in the universe?”

Henry looked confused for a second, and I realized he was searching his mind for that stat. I laughed. “Just kidding, buddy.”

Amy Harmon is a USA Today and New York Times Bestselling author. Amy knew at an early age that writing was something she wanted to do, and she divided her time between writing songs and stories as she grew. Having grown up in the middle of wheat fields without a television, with only her books and her siblings to entertain her, she developed a strong sense of what made a good story. Her books are now being published in several countries, truly a dream come true for a little country girl from Levan, Utah.

Amy Harmon has written seven novels – the USA Today Bestsellers, Making Faces and Running Barefoot, as well as Slow Dance in Purgatory, Prom Night in Purgatory, Infinity + One and the New York Times Bestseller, A Different Blue. Her newest release, The Law of Moses, is now available. For updates on upcoming book releases, author posts and more, join Amy at www.authoramyharmon.com

Life hasn’t been easy for Aeley since she arrested her brother, and her role as a political leader leaves her feeling isolated and lonely. Days before her brother’s trial, she meets Lira, a quiet and modest scribe who makes Aeley want more than just a professional relationship.

When she attends the trial and leaves with a marriage contract, Aeley doesn’t know what to do. She must choose one of two brothers, marrying into a family she doesn’t know. Then she discovers that Lira is part of the same family–a sister to Aeley’s suitors and the family’s disgrace. And not at all opposed to an intimate relationship.

Except random acts of violence against her people test Aeley’s ability as a leader, and a web of lies and deceit threaten not only her chance at happiness, but her life…

The dreams. By the Four, the dreams. Please don’t make me babble about them. We can’t get into it.

Waiting for the carriage, Aeley watched Lira fan her hair around her shoulders and tug on her shawl. Though it was a cool autumn morning, not all of Aeley’s shivers were due to the breeze. The meeting with Vant inspired her dreams to twist around her desires. Instead of focusing on Allon and her anger, the images revolved around Lira and an intimacy that Aeley could not ignore. She refused to mention the dreams to anyone, including Mayr. He would taunt her without mercy if he knew of her attraction to Lira. It was bad enough she’d woken in a sweat more than once. For certain, she could say nothing to Lira. Anything else would make the ride awkward.

“There it is,” Mayr said.

Aeley turned when he raised his arm, his tattoos and scars hidden by his long sleeve and leather brace. Drawn by two grey horses, the small, closed carriage slowed before them. Mayr opened the door and gestured for them to enter. Lira obeyed without hesitation, climbing the small steps and sliding across the black cushions.

“After you.” Mayr’s hand slid across Aeley’s back and gave her a gentle push towards the steps.

“No, after you. No need to be formal. It’s a meeting, not a ball,” Aeley argued, digging her boot into the dirt.

“That’s fine, but I’m still not getting in.”

“What?”

“I’m sitting up front with the driver.”

“Why? It’s not like she’s going to bite—”

Mayr rolled his eyes. “I know that.” Turning into her, he lowered his voice. “I’m giving you the chance to bite her.”

Aeley caught herself before she fell back. “What?” What was the proper response? Slap him? Stare like a mortified idiot?

With a sigh, Mayr leaned closer and murmured his words. “I’ve been watching you. Something’s going on. Should’ve seen your face when she walked in on breakfast. Stared at her like any guy would. Nervous, fidgety. Not at all like you.”

“That’s not—I’m not—she’s just—” Aeley bit her tongue and twisted her heel. How could he call her bluff when she did not understand it herself? Her face warmed, the rest of her body feeling hot under her light cloak. If he noticed, had Lira noticed, too? Oh, by the Blessed Four… this could be a long ride if she did.

“If you like her, you like her. Either way, I’m not getting in for the same reason I wouldn’t let you bring the gaffa nectar. This is a perfect chance, so don’t be stupid.” Mayr stepped back. “Now getin.”

Archer Kay Leah was raised in Ontario, Canada, growing up in a port town at a time when it was starting to become more diverse, both visibly and vocally. Combined with the variety of interests found in Archer’s family and the never-ending need to be creative, it has been this diversity that has inspired Archer’s love of toying with characters and their relationships, exploring new experiences and crazy situations.

Archer started writing stories at age six and became “that kid” with their nose in the books and a pen in their hand, pursuing the challenges of writing novels at age thirteen and conquering the dread of poetry at fifteen. Archer most enjoys writing speculative fiction and is engaged in a very particular love affair with fantasy, especially when it is dark and emotionally charged.

When not reading and writing for work or play, Archer is a geek who has too many hobbies, keeping busy with other creative endeavors, a music addiction, and whatever else comes along, especially if it is in technological form. Archer lives in London, Ontario with a same-sex partner and their cat.

**The first book in the series, Last Hit, has been optioned for a movie by Flame Ventures.**

Naomi: When I was kidnapped I thought only of survival. I don’t thrive well in chaos. That’s why I gave my captors exactly what they wanted: my skill with computers. Making millions for a crime lord who kept me imprisoned in his basement compound kept my family safe. When he was taken out, I thought my ticket to freedom had arrived. Wrong. I traded one keeper for another. This time I’m in the hands of a scarred, dark, demanding Russian who happens to be the head of the Bratva, a Russian crime organization. He wants my brain and my body. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued, but I can’t be a prisoner forever…no matter how good he makes me feel.

Vasily: At a young age, I was taught that a man without power is a puppet for all. I’ve clawed—and killed—my way to the top so that it is my heel on their necks. But to unify the fractured organization into an undefeatable machine, I need a technological genius to help me steal one particular artifact. That she is breathtaking, determined, and vulnerable is making her more dangerous than all of my enemies combined. But only I can keep her safe from the world that she now inhabits. Soon, I must choose between Naomi and Bratva law. But with every day that passes, this becomes a more impossible choice.

“I told you I don’t like to be touched. Do you have a hearing deficit?” She frowns. “Because at first I was concerned that perhaps it is your English, but you seem to speak it quite well. Maybe it is your hearing then? You are young to have hearing problems. Is it hereditary? The most common birth defect is diminished hearing. Genetics are responsible for at least sixty percent of hearing deficits in infants so it’s most likely your hearing loss is due to your parents. Were one or more of your parents hearing challenged?”

I look at her blankly.

“Deaf. That’s what I mean by hearing challenged. Challenged is the word you’re supposed to use instead of other things. Like instead of mute, voice challenged. Or instead of handicapped, it’s physically challenged. I learned that in college. I’m socially challenged, but maybe it doesn’t translate into Russian. You’re Russian, right?”

“Yes. What does it matter?”

“It doesn’t. There was a Russian student in my art history course. Your accent was similar. I remember him telling me he was from a certain region—southern maybe? I didn’t much like the course. My advisor forced me to take it, saying that I needed some liberal arts to make my education well rounded, but learning about painting and politics did not assist me in creating better code. I like to write code. Code makes sense. Art does not.”

Jen Frederick lives with her husband, child, and one rambunctious dog. She’s been reading stories all her life but never imagined writing one of her own. Jen loves to hear from readers so drop her a line at jensfrederick@gmail.com.

Jill Myles has been an incurable romantic since childhood. She reads all the ‘naughty parts’ of books first, looks for a dirty joke in just about everything, and thinks to this day that the Little House on the Prairie books should have been steamier.

After devouring hundreds of paperback romances, mythology books, and archaeological tomes, she decided to write a few books of her own – stories with a wild adventure, sharp banter, and lots of super-sexy situations. She prefers her heroes alpha and half-dressed, her heroines witty, and she loves nothing more than watching them overcome adversity to fall into bed together.

Andrea and her two best friends have shed their nurses scrubs for a long-awaited weekend in Las Vegas, and nothing—flight delays, lost luggage, or the slightly weird guy with the sketchy invite to an exclusive bash—is going to stop their fun.

Within minutes of arriving at the opulent party, she’s deep in conversation with gorgeous, funny Luke Nelson, wide receiver for the Seattle Seahawks. For some crazy reason, he can’t seem to keep his eyes—or hands—off her.

Luke isn’t looking for a hookup, he just wants to relax…until he gets one look at the classy brunette in the barely-there dress. One minute they’re talking, the next they’re all over each other in a dark corner. It’s like he’s an addict and she’s the fix he’s been searching for all his life.

One night of hot sex isn’t nearly enough. But after a weekend spent never more than a few inches apart, the time is quickly approaching when they’ll have to make a long-distance relationship work—or break it off.

“Andrea.”

She whirled around…and there he was. Tall. Broad. Casually dressed in a navy blue T-shirt and jeans, a smile on his face, his dark eyes sparkling. Oh, he looked amazing. She could hardly believe he was standing there in front of her.

“Hi.” She hiked her purse strap over her shoulder, clinging to it like a lifeline. What should she do? What should she say? Did she have permission to throw herself at him like a lovesick girlfriend or was she supposed to act cool and composed?

“Come here.” He grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her into him, giving her a lingering kiss. Then another one. His lips were warm and damp and when he pulled away, releasing her slowly, he looked about as dazed as she felt. “We need to get the fuck out of here, and quick. You have luggage to pick up?”

She shook her head, stepping aside to display her suitcase. “This is all I brought.” Why did they need to leave so quickly? She didn’t understand.

His smile grew and he rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. “Then let’s go.”

Luke took her suitcase for her despite her protests, grabbing her hand with his free one as he escorted her out of the airport. He kept his head slightly bent, as if he didn’t want people to recognize him, and she followed his lead, glancing around as discreetly as possible to see if anyone recognized him.

If they did, they gave him his privacy, and she was thankful for it. He seemed extra determined to leave unnoticed, practically dragging her outside toward a giant parking structure. They took an elevator up five floors, the interior of it freezing cold, and he slung his arm around her shoulder and held her close, his mouth at her forehead as he whispered to her.

“I missed you.”

She rested her hand on his stomach, noting the way the muscles tensed up at her light touch. “I missed you too,” she admitted. Damn it. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t make any sort of confession like that and there she went, not even five minutes into the visit.

“You hungry?”

“No.”

“Thirsty?” He pulled away from her when the elevator came to a stop, his hand falling to her lower back as he escorted her out into the garage.

“Um, no.” What was up with the weird questions?

“Good. We’ll go straight to my place then.” The look he shot her was full of heat, his gaze running over her quickly, and she shivered as if he’d actually touched her. “You are a sight for sore eyes, I hope you know.”

That saying had never made much sense to her, but that didn’t matter at the moment because he’d missed her. Looked at her as if he wanted to gobble her up, which she was a big fan of because the man had a very talented mouth. And hands.

Hands that could catch footballs, sure, but they were also magic hands that had her trembling and falling apart rather quickly…

“Here’s my truck.” He stopped at a gleaming brand-new blue Toyota pickup and unlocked the doors with a keyless remote, going to the passenger side to open the door for her. She hopped into the truck with his assistance, turning to look at him and say thank you, but he cut her off with his lips, kissing her so fiercely she had no choice but to lean back against the seat.

She grabbed hold of the back of his neck, her mouth opening to his, letting his tongue slide inside. A groan escaped her and she tunneled her fingers into his soft hair, gasping when his big warm hand maneuvered beneath her shirt and settled on her stomach.

“We keep this up, I’ll be fucking you in the parking garage—I don’t give a damn who sees us,” he said when he finally tore his lips from hers.

Exhaling a shuddery breath, she released her hold on him. That sounded perfect, which was totally crazy. She couldn’t allow him to do any such thing to her in a public parking garage. “Take me to your place,” she murmured, making him smile.

“Will do, baby.” He shut the door and rounded the back of the truck, opening his door so he could slip her suitcase on the bench seat behind them before he hopped into the driver’s seat. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

She smiled. “I can’t believe it either.”

“I’m glad, though.” His deep voice washed over her, making her shiver, and she watched as he settled his big hand on her knee and gave it a squeeze. “Fucking ecstatic, if you want me to be honest.”

Between nursing school and starting their careers, Reagan, Andrea, and Natalie have had no time for dating. After saving up for a special vacation, they’re on their way to Vegas for a long-awaited weekend of fun, sun, gambling and partying.

When their luggage goes missing, an impromptu shopping trip leads them to James, who makes them an unusual offer—to be part of the female scenery at his boss’s upcoming party. Not just any scenery, but women who are pretty in a real way, not the nipped, tucked and dyed Hollywood version.

Accept a “private party” invitation from a complete stranger? These ladies weren’t born yesterday. Yet before “no thanks” crosses their lips, Reagan discovers who James’s boss really is: Declan Carter, an actor she’s crushed on for, well, forever. Now she’s determined to be the eye candy who catches Declan’s eye. No matter what it takes…

Reagan can’t believe her luck—and not in a good way. One minute she’s hanging out with her friends at an exclusive party in Las Vegas. The next, she’s attracted the attention of a famous actor. Not just any actor. Declan Carter, the man on which she used to—okay, might still—have a fangirl crush. Whose blue eyes leave her embarrassingly tongue tied.

All Declan wants is to meet a nice, normal woman who won’t use him as a stepping stone to fame. Something about Reagan tells him she could be that rare woman, and he follows his instinct to invite her back to his suite—where they proceed to have wild monkey sex. All. Night. Long.

What was supposed to be one night of no-regrets sex stretches out into a blissful weekend of two people who can’t get enough of each other. But when the glamour of Sin City wears off, they’re standing on the edge of a once-in-a-lifetime chance to turn a weekend fling into something lasting. Will they take the jump?

USA Today bestselling author Karen Erickson writes what she loves to read – sexy contemporary romance. Published since 2006, she’s a native Californian who lives in the foothills below Yosemite with her husband and three children.

Home for the summer between college and med school, Pearl Torres Frank knows two things: Boyce Wynn is the embodiment of everything she should run from, and everything she wants to run to. Rebellious and loud. Unconcerned with society’s opinion of him. Passionate. Strong. Dangerous.

And one more trait he hides from everyone but her: Sweet.

Boyce watched me, a lit cigarette in one hand and a koozied
beer in the other. We hadn’t spoken since that kiss, other than his usual juvenile
quips during biology—the ones that drove Mel and Mr. Quinn insane and made
Landon smirk and shake his head and had me biting the inside of my cheek to
suppress my smile.

At first, I’d been confused, then disappointed, and then
angry. I’d worked my way to acceptance, like when I’d known I was drowning and
there was nothing I could do. He’d merely gone back to being Boyce Wynn, who
did what he wanted and who he wanted. And I’d gone back to being Pearl
Frank—star student, social royalty, good girl.

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of EASY and BREAKABLE (Contours of the Heart series – NA), as well BETWEEN THE LINES, WHERE YOU ARE, GOOD FOR YOU and HERE WITHOUT YOU (Between the Lines series – YA/NA).

I’m a hopeful romantic who adores novels with happy endings, because there are enough sad endings in real life. Before writing full-time, I was an undergraduate academic advisor, economics tutor, planetarium office manager, radiology call center rep, and the palest person to ever work at a tanning salon. I married my high school sweetheart, and I’m Mom to three adult kids and four very immature cats.